The Christmas Song

Dark years of exile were broken, finally, and the Jews returned to their homeland with celebration—but also with tears. The temple that Zerubabbel built was a far cry from the glorious one of the past. In time, the Romans came. The Jews found themselves in their homeland, but not at home. They were still under foreign rule and oppression. Herod built a temple—a beautiful one, but yet a reminder that they were under Roman rule. Various revolts and rebellions attempted to secure freedom, but to no avail. And during this, God was silent for 400 years. A horrible silence in the midst of a hopeless situation.

Then, Jesus was born.

We sit here two thousand years after this event. Perhaps this past year has brought great joy and newness. A new song just is swelling up and overflowing from your soul. You are in the Promised Land, and God has given you milk and honey. God is satisfying you with the richest of delicacies and your soul is filled (Ps. 63:5). Your heart trumpets his goodness in your life with a song that cannot be contained! Perhaps he has brought you out of exile, out of the desert, and has restored you, rebuilt you, and you are rejoicing in the crown of beauty he has given you (Is. 61)!

Or, perhaps this year has found you like the Jews—not at home or in exile. You are not where you want to be. Perhaps you feel, in some ways, homeless in your soul. There is just that slight nagging feeling that everything is not alright. You continue to go to the temple—your job, your family, church, hobby, whatever that provides some sense of security—but it is a subtle reminder that all is not right. Or perhaps you know that it is not alright, and your temple walls have fallen down and all is exposed in a rubble. The past presents haunting and condemnation; the present is a mess; and the future does not hold a promise of change.

Perhaps, God’s promises seem late. He is silent. Or he doesn’t seem to make good on his promises. The abundant life, the well of living waters, the bread that will never let us be hungry again, the sense of his presence that will never leave us nor forsake us… Where are they? Where are his promises? Where is God?

Jesus stepped in after 400 years of silence. He came in a manger—in the daily places we call home and life. He came in humility, to broken people. Elizabeth, an elderly woman bearing the social shame and stigma of barrenness; Zechariah, a priest who doubted God could intervene in such a miraculous way; Mary, a common woman nothing to distinguish her from the crowd; Joseph, a blue collar worker; shepherds, who worked on the lowest rungs of society—these were the people who played a role in the story of Jesus’ birth. They were witnesses to the fulfillment of a Promise that was late—but not too late.

If you are in exile or in a Promised Land—God makes good his promises. Always. And never too late, although the past seems to haunt, the present seems to be in ruins, and the future doesn’t offer hope of change. The darkness can seem to be deep, but it is to us in the darkness that Jesus breaks forth.

“Zechariah was filled with the Holy Spirit and prophesied:

Praise be to the Lord, the God of Israel,

Because he HAS come and HAS redeemed his people.

He has raised up a horn of salvation for us…

To show mercy to our fathers

And to REMEMBER his holy covenant…

To rescue us from the hand of our enemies,

And to enable us to serve him without fear

In holiness and righteousness before him al our days.

And you, my child…will go on before the Lord to prepare a way for him,

To give his people the knowledge of salvation

Through the forgiveness of their sins,

Because of the tender mercy of our God,

By which the RISING SUN will come to us from heaven

To SHINE on those LIVING IN DARKNESS

And in the SHADOW OF DEATH,

To GUIDE our feet into the path of PEACE”

(Luke 1:68-79).

Zechariah had been living in fear, and now he knew that the Lord enabled him to serve without fear. He had been doubting that God remembered his covenant and promises with his people, and now he knew that God remembered. Salvation had appeared far from reality, and now it had occurred in Christ. It was a promise that seemed late—but not too late.

Our Sovereign God will not be manipulated or pushed into boxes, but he cannot deny his character. He cannot be faithless even if we are faithless (2 Tim. 2:13). He is the God who holds out his hands and invites people to come to him (Is. 65:2). 

His promises offer future to those who thought they had no future. They offer hope in a situation that is hopeless. Only our God can do this. Only a God who comes and steps into our mess and walks through it with us. Only a God who can identify with our sufferings and knows our temptations. A God who knows the poverty of a manger; the despair and anguish of the cross; and the joy and power and promise of the resurrection.

Mary sings in Luke 1:46-55:

“My soul glorifies the Lord and my spirit rejoices in God my SAVIOR,

For he has been MINDFUL of the humble state of his servant.

From now on all generations will call me blessed,

For the MIGHTY ONE HAS DONE GREAT THINGS for me—

Holy is His name.

His MERCY extends to those who fear him, from generation to generation.

He HAS performed MIGHTY DEEDS with his arm…”

What would the rest of the song look like for today?

He has brought low those who condemn us, harass us, nag us, belittle us, call us names, who are proud in their inmost thoughts (Jas. 4:6; 1 Pt. 5:5).

He has brought down the rulers from their thrones—the powers of economy, politics, governmental institutions, or even bosses are subject to him; but he has lifted up the humble (Rom. 13:1; Col. 2:15).

He has filled the hungry with good things—those who are hungry for peace, joy, a rest, quiet, acceptance, or food and shelter; but he has sent the rich away empty. For where hope and newness can emerge, there is also a prerequisite death. Those who cling to the gods of this world will be sent away empty, for idols of work, money, pride, power, pleasure cannot fulfill (Mt. 6:33; Mt. 10:39; Mt. 5:1-12; Lk. 6:17-26).

He has helped his servant Israel, his faithful remnant in America, in Honduras, in persecuted Burma, remembering to be merciful to Abraham and his descendents forever, even as he said to our fathers.

We carry the same lineage. We have the same hope. Our God will remember us. He has remembered us—in Christ (Hebrews).

Christ became humbled so we could be blessed (Phil. 2:6-11; 2 Cor. 8:9).

God extended mercy as others forced Christ’s arms to be extended on the cross (Eph. 2:3-5).

Jesus showed what was in the minds and hearts of the religious leaders of the day, yet accepting the humble and the outcasts and the hopeless, the rejects, the ones without promise, the ones without futures.

He came down from heaven and his throne, emptying himself, and conquered the powers of this world and disarmed them, triumphing over them by the cross. He came down so that we could be lifted up to God and have the hope of glory (Phil. 2:6-11; Col. 2:15; 2 Cor. 5:19-21; Rom. 5:2; Col. 1:27).

He knew hunger and tiredness and fatigue and the cares of this world so that we could be filled. He knew rejection so that we could find ultimate acceptance (Mt. 8:20; Rom. 5:1).

He was helpless, led like a lamb to the slaughter, at the hands of evil men, so that he could help us (Is. 53:7).

He was shown no mercy, so that we could have mercy.

The wrath of God was poured on him, so that we could live in the ancient promises of God.

He has come in to a broken world and has changed the fundamental reality. The baby in the manger brought in hope for the hopeless, a future for those without futures, a home for those who feel not at home, peace for those who are anxious, joy for those who are overburdened and weary. He walks with us each step of the way. He is committed to us, from the beginning of our new birth in him until he brings us up to heaven with him. He will keep us and sustain us. He will make good his promises. They may seem late—but they are never too late.

This is the promise of Christmas, God with us, Immanuel.